


The Shadow of the Demon

by imaginisa



Series: Gotham Knights [5]
Category: DC Animated Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 18:28:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12371520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginisa/pseuds/imaginisa
Summary: "So I'd be dead!" Damien was yelling. He didn't remember deciding to yell. "You aren't understanding me," Ra's began. "I understand well enough!" They'd always known that Ra's al Ghul would come for Damien. But they'd thought they would have more time to prepare. With Batman and Nightwing off-planet, it's up to Red Hood and Red Robin to save their younger brother...or die trying.





	1. Prologue

Jason Todd was in the habit of ignoring his doorbell, which is why Dick Grayson decided to crawl in through the window. He wasn't too put off by having a gun pointed at his face as a result, and leaned back against the window frame and flashed his customary grin. "Hi, Jay!"

Jason rolled his eyes, put the gun back on the counter and went back to making coffee. Coffee the right way, with a French press and hand-ground beans. People thought Jason was this unrefined jerk and, while he admitted he was somewhat of a jerk, he had spent part of his childhood living in the Wayne Manor and the last nine? ten? eleven? years since his rebirth had visibly mellowed him out. And he loved good coffee. Sometimes he thought his blood was more coffee than water.

"Had a good night?" Asked Dick, catching sight of Jason's leather jacket thrown carelessly on a chair.

"Pretty slow, actually," said Jason as he ground up the rest of the beans. "Petty crooks are still laying low from that big bust we did two weeks ago and said big bust got a few high-ranking players out of the game...temporarily anyway."

"We did well," observed Dick with satisfaction. "Although, with all of us working together that tends to be the case."

"Okay, I'll bite," said Jason. "What do you want?"

"Can't a big brother drop by to say hello?" Protested Dick.

"If that's what you were doing you would have dropped by the shop," said Jason.

"Maybe. How's the motorcycle business anyway?"

"It's fine; I like having Wednesdays off, it's oddly satisfying. But don't change the subject."

"Okay, okay," Dick said. He crossed his arms. "I have a favor to ask."

"That's more like it."

"C'mon Jay, don't be like that. Bruce and I are going to be off-world for the next couple of weeks doing Justice League stuff. I – we – were wondering if you could keep an eye on Tim and Dami."

"They agreed to work together?" Jason asked.

"They've reached an understanding," said Dick. "Please, Jay?"

Jason crossed his arms and asked, "What's in it for me?"

Dick grinned. "Every time you stop by the House, Alfred will make you a meal."

There was a pause.

Jason groaned. "Dammit, Dickie-bird!"

Dick laughed his infuriating laugh and made to leave but...

"Want to stay for some coffee?" Jason asked. "It's better than that cheap stuff you usually get at the precinct."

Dick smiled.


	2. On Patrol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Batman and Nightwing off-planet, it's up to the rest of the Bat-Clan to protect Gotham...but who will protect them?

"So if I go to bed, all of you crazy kids will be okay?"

Damien Wayne, the current Robin and as moody and unpredictable as any other almost-fifteen-year-old, rolled his eyes.

Tim Drake, known by the world as Red Robin, shook his head as he replied into the comlink, "We'll be fine, Oracle. The city's criminals are still recovering from that big bust we did three weeks ago."

"I'm just saying, they're historically more active on Friday nights."

"Go to bed, Oracle," said Robin with a smirk. "You're getting old and need your beauty sleep."

"Demon brat," she replied. But both boys could hear the fondness in her voice. "Okay, take care. Oracle, out." She cut the comlink.

Robin leaned back against the radio antenna on tonight's skyscraper-perch, savoring the rare warmth in the summer night breeze.

Red Robin has his specially modified smart-phone tuned to the radio scanner. He was listening to it with an amused look on his face, as one of the new officers was being quite the fanboy about Batman. He was also flipping through Justice League alerts on his smart-watch, double checking that the League could go another night without support from anyone on Team Batman.

"Think they'll ever invite us to Mars?" Robin asked conversationally.

Red Robin shrugged. "Maybe; Batman and Nightwing usually get those gigs."

"But someday they'll retire," pointed out Robin. "Who do you think they'll pick then?"

"Not Red Hood," said Red Robin instantly.

Robin laughed. It had taken him a long time to learn to laugh, and sometimes it sounded more like a cackle and sent a shiver of pure fear down the spines of those around him. But tonight it could almost be called bright.

Red Robin hid his smile.

Then sat up straight as someone on the police radio reported, "We have a bank robbery on K and 12th. Repeat, K and 12th."

Robin and Red exchanged looks and were about to launch themselves off the roof when that young police officer who really liked Batman reported, "Second robbery on C and 22nd! C and 22nd!...ugh...what do I do?"

Robin snorted. "Amateur."

"We each take one, radio each other when we finish?" Suggested Red Robin.

Robin smirked. "Yeah, I'll come help you once I'm done."

Red Robin shook his head and said, "I'll help out the amateur. We want his impression of the family to be a good one." He launched himself off the roof before Robin could protest, engaging the glider-wings on his suit.

Robin was about to protest anyway but concluded that said amateur would only get in the way and took off for the first location.

"Let's go!" One bank-thief yelled at the other. "If we stay here too long we'll get caught by the Batman..."

"Batman doesn't think you're important enough to come get you personally," a young voice said from the darkened ceiling.

A shape somewhat like a ninja star came spiraling through the air and the worried bank thief found himself pinned to the wall by a weird bat-shaped object. Before he had time to do more but wonder what the hell was going on, the canister of gas on it exploded with a small pop and dosed the surprised criminal in sleeping gas.

The man who had been supposed to be keeping a look-out was found unconscious out front, a nasty bruise blossoming on his chin. The two men who had gone for the vault were found tied to chairs, one significantly more unconscious than the other. The man who had been worried about Batman was snoring peacefully which was, Robin decided, probably the most undignified of the positions. The money was found neatly stacked in the shape of a bat.

Robin had helped himself to one of those lollipops in the lobby on the way out and was enjoying it on the roof as the police observed his handiwork.

Robin checked his watch. "Not too terrible," he muttered, twirling the lollipop stick in his fingers. "Their response time is getting better."

Then he spun around with a baterang in each hand. "Show yourself!" He snarled, his eyes glinting dangerously.

Ra's al Ghul came out from the shadows, applauding. "Your skills have improved," Ra's said approvingly. "There was a time that I could watch you for hours without you noticing me in the shadows."

"Hello, Grandfather," said Robin, stowing his weapons. "What brings you here?" His tone was even. No malice. But no real kindness either.

"It's time for you to come home," said Ra's.

Robin narrowed his eyes. "I am home."

Ra's scowled but quickly covered it so quickly with a kind smile that Robin wondered if he'd imagined it.

"Home is where you were born, my grandson," said Ra's. "And to the legacy that you have inherited. It cannot be altered or erased. For too long have you forgotten the blood from your mother. The blood you got from me." Ra's suddenly looked old and sad.

Robin squirmed internally. Yet... "I have my father's blood, too," he said stubbornly.

"And you have done it great credit," agreed Ra's. "But you are needed back home. I have decided it is time for the League of Shadows to face the facts; we are part of the past. Relics of history. It is time for us to change."

"You mean," asked Robin slowly. "You're considering disbanding the League?"

"Disbanding?" Ra's frowned. "I prefer the word...re-organizing. But, yes, it is time for a drastic change. And I would like you to be a part of it."

"Me?"

"Of course," Ra's smiled warmly. "Who else but my grandson is worthy of the honor?"

Robin felt his chest puff up with pride. Be part of the reorganization of the League of Shadows? He imagined using those dangerous assassins as agents for good. Taking out evil dictators and power-hungry businessmen and corrupt politicians. Scaring people like Lex Luther and Queen Bee into silence. Individuals who could take that final step and permanently silence those who would seek to silence others. Damien felt almost giddy.

Imagine how proud father would be if I was able to change one of our greatest opponents into a powerful ally?

"How long would I be gone?" Damien asked. Already "Robin" had been set aside, neatly folded away into a different part of his mind.

"That would depend upon you," replied Ra's.

Damien nodded. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out his phone.

"What is that?" asked Ra's.

"A precaution," replied Damien. He disabled his tracker and put his radio on Do Not Disturb.

"I'm ready," he said, looking up.

"Excellent," Ra's led the way into the shadows. "My helicopter is not far."

Soon the only thing left on that roof was the bright yellow lollipop that Damien had flung to the side when he realized he was being watched. A single ant followed the sweet scent of artificial dyes and sugar. Then another. And another. Until then bright yellow was consumed by a writhing mass of black.

By the time that Red Robin appeared, annoyed that Robin hadn't checked in and wondering where the younger boy had gone, there was no trace that Damien had ever been there.

They'd even taken the stick.


	3. My Brother's Keeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red Hood doesn't know why he always ends up running after the other two. But he can't seem to say no, either.

Jason Todd wasn't Red Hood today. He was nameless, his face hidden behind a scraggly beard and a low hat. He sulked in the shadows of the meeting, listening as drug underlings argued over who would be the next drug lord. Nameless, watched, and noted both the fast-talkers and the silent shadows, and waited.

Then his phone shook silently in his pocket.

Nameless stretched, adjusting his hat, and slyly activated the bead comlink in his ear. He left a thoughtful hand on his chin and muttered into the speaker on the watch that did a good job of pretending to be a leather band. "What?"

"Hood, did Robin ask you for help or anything tonight?"

Red Hood blinked in surprise. "No...?"

"Would you tell me if he had?" Red Robin sounded very irritated.

"Probably?"

"You're no help," Red Robin grumbled.

"Red, what's going on?" Hood muttered.

"Robin's gone," Red hissed. "I can't find him anywhere and he disabled his tracker. A little trick he learned from you, I might add."

"Don't you think it's creepy that otherwise, HE can find us anywhere?" Hood pointed out.

"It's to keep us safe in situations like this," Red complained. "Look, if you see or hear anything from Robin can you please let me know?"

"You're worried," Hood observed.

"Of course I'm worried," Red snapped. "It's not like before, when he would do this all the time. If Nightwing were on-planet, he'd probably know where Robin went. But he's not; and if the kid gets hurt or god-forbid dies..." Red stopped abruptly. Hood felt more than heard the steadying breath. "Just let me know if you hear from him." And Red cut the call.

Hood stretched again and Nameless was once again looking at his fellow potential drug lords. But he soon got bored and left the meeting, declaring that they were all fools anyway.

Red Hood hurried to where he had hidden his normal outfit and went to find the nearest entrance to the Bat Cave.

 

Tim was sitting in front of the huge bank of computers, in the position more often held by Batman or Oracle, frowning at a series of screens showing nothing but black and grey static.

"What is that?" Jason asked by way of greeting.

"Those are all of the cameras in the area where the second bank was robbed," said Tim.

"There was a bank robbery?" Asked Jason.

"There were two," countered Tim. "And we each took one. The bank that Damien so heroically saved had no working cameras in a two-mile radius around it."

Jason frowned. "None?"

"None," Tim frowned, crossing his arms and leaning back. He suddenly looked remarkably like Bruce. "Not even traffic cameras. I'd say that the bank thieves were better prepared for that robbery and that the one I got was a diversion but, according to the police scanner, they didn't even put up that great of a fight when Robin showed."

"Cops saw the fight?" Jason asked.

"One of them saw Robin climbing out through a window," said Tim. "He spent some time leaving them a calling card. He arranged all the recovered money like a bat-"

"Dash cams."

Tim frowned at Jason. "Huh?"

"The police all got dashboard cameras a few weeks ago," said Jason. "They may have gotten something."

"Oh," said Tim. He switched screens and got to work. The GPD system had been hacked by the Bat Cave systems so many time that it took no time at all to get into the live stream, and everything started downloading before Tim actually figured out which cop cars had actually been there and refined his data dump.

Then it was just sitting down and watching TV. But really blurry, bad-quality TV.

"...Robin left us a calling card..."

"...you have the right...silent...right to...against you..."

"... nothing was stolen..."

The sound cut in and out as cops milled about and one of the captives was swearing so much in the back of one of the cop cars that Tim muted that particular stream so they could concentrate on the rest.

"Maybe this wasn't such a great idea," Jason muttered as their search turned up nothing.

Tim looked crestfallen as he turned on the last stream. This cop had been stationed a few blocks away to watch for get-away drivers. A news helicopter passed through the corner and...

The helicopter.

"Stop," said Jason. But Tim had already paused the video was already zooming in on the blurry photo and passing it through an enhancement algorithm.

Damien was in the copilot seat of that helicopter.

The pilot was Ra's al Ghul.

Jason let out an impressive stream of cuss words before ending with, "He betrayed us. He fucking betrayed us."

"Maybe not," Tim said weakly. "Maybe he had a good reason."

"There is no reason in hell for Bruce Wayne's son to go with al Ghul. Jesus Christ..."

"He's Talia's son, too."

"Are you fucking defending him?"

"I think he's in trouble," said Tim stubbornly.

"He's in a helicopter, he looks okay to me!"

"Well, then, he's going to be in trouble-"

"I don't fucking care! The demon brat can end up dead for all I..."

"You don't mean that."

Jason turned and glared at the younger man, but Tim held his ground. "I know you don't mean that," said Tim firmly.

Jason looked away, his hands balled into fists. After a few minutes, he went over and punched one of the pillars with all his might. Tim winced but didn't drop his determined gaze.

"I'm afraid that Ra's coerced him into going," insisted Tim. "The cameras had to have been his doing."

"The brat didn't check in," countered Jason, not turning around.

"Of course he didn't," Tim snapped. "It was me, wasn't it?"

It was the bitterness in Tim's voice that promoted Jason to look, but now Tim had turned away.

"We'll give him a day to check in," said Tim. "Then we should go after him."

"I'm not going after him," said Jason flatly. "I'm not going back there."

Tim opened his mouth to argue. Then closed it again and threw his hands in exasperation before stomping upstairs.

Jason sighed.

He examined the skin he'd peeled off his hand when he'd punched the concrete pillar, watched a few drops of blood accumulate on the raw skin. Flowing blood meant life. Meant hope.

Only one of those had been regained after his plunge into the Lazarus pit about a decade ago. He didn't want to go back.

But if Damien is in trouble? Said a voice in his head that sounded annoyingly like Dick.

Tim's got it, Jason tried to reassure himself.

It wasn't reassuring. For all his intelligence, Tim wasn't ruthless. The League of Shadows was ruthless. It was...

"JAY!"

Tim's yell had Jason out of the Bat Cave and into the House in only a few seconds. The shout had come through the intercom, transmitted through Tim's cell phone. Sure enough, Tim was standing in an empty room, holding his cell phone in one hand and looking around the room with wide eyes.

Jason had scanned the room, gun raised, looking for the enemy before he realized that there was no enemy.

The room was completely empty except for Tim and a bed that had been stripped down to its mattress.

Except that room was Damien's. There should have been messy sheets and a half-open armoire and books about ancient weapons stacked on a desk. With his uniform neatly folded but everything else a mess.

But it was empty.

"Wha..." Jason's mouth felt very dry.

Alfred came running over as fast as he could, leaning heavily on a walking stick. After just one look, he let out a sound somewhat like a whimper. Jason had never heard the steadfast butler make that noise. It scared him.

"Jay," said Tim softly.

Jason looked at him. The sun was starting to rise and was turning Tim's blue-grey eyes golden. "I really think Damien's in trouble," Tim said.

Jason nodded. "We should tell Oracle to look for us if we're gone for too long."

"So you'll come?" Tim asked cautiously.

"Yeah," said Jason. He looked at the rising sun. "Yeah...I'll come."

"48 Hours," said Barbara a few hours later as Tim and Jason got into the Bat plane after a troubled sleep and a hurried breakfast. "You idiots have 48 hours to find Damien and get out or I'm sending in the Justice League."

"Fair enough," said Jason. He threw his extra bag of bullets into the back and strapped in.

"We'll be home soon," Tim promised her. He sealed the plane and started the ignition.

"You better be," Barbara muttered as they took off into the sky.


	4. The Cave of the Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damien had not realized how much he had changed until he was faced with the shadows from his past.

Talia al Ghul was waiting for them on the cleverly concealed helicopter pad.

"Welcome home, Damien," she said by way of greeting.

Damien went to give her a hug, but restrained himself just in time. They didn't hug in this place. "Hello, mother," said Damien. "It is..." He paused. He'd been about to say 'good to see you.' But he wasn't sure if good was the right word. "...strange to be back after so long," Damien finished.

"It's been too long," Talia agreed.

Damien realized that he wasn't sure of that either. The place felt a lot smaller now, and the eyes behind the masks of his grandfather's men were different eyes from those he remembered.

"Would you like to change into something more suitable?" Talia asked. She motioned to one of the ninjas and they came forward with a neatly folded uniform just like hers. "I had it made for your size."

"If you insist," said Damien. He wondered what leather would feel like against skin used to polymers and Kevlar.

"You know, I think I do," his mother said playfully.

Damien accepted the clothing. "Is my room...?"

"Still how you left it," assured Talia.

"Good," said Damien. And he regained some of his old swagger as he walked the familiar route to his childhood room.

The room was still the same. The same mattress on a pallet on the ground, the two small katanas on the wall (the larger sword that completed the set was at Wayne Manor as Damien had taken it with him all those years ago.) There were a few books on martial arts and ancient weapons by the bed. A few folded robes in a trunk. And that was it.

Damien thought of the posters plastered on the walls of Grayson's room in Wayne Manor (even his adult house in Bludhaven had a few), of the mess in Todd's apartment, and of the stacks upon stacks of books in Drake's room. Then he felt very odd. Almost cheated.

"You're here to change the world, not hold an internal debate about child rearing," Damien muttered to himself. He folded his Robin uniform and fished out his phone.

I should call Drake, Damien thought. Or he might worry and call father. That would be a disaster.

He'd raised his phone to do just that when someone knocked. "Would you like to join me for a meal?" Ra's called through the door. "I know you slept on the flight but you must be hungry."

"Yeah...I mean..." Damien back-tracked. "Yes, grandfather, I would be honored to join you." He hesitated, searched for pockets on the leather pants, and finding none, slipped his phone under his Robin uniform on the bed.

I'll call after eating, Damien promised himself.

The meal was simple but filling, some rice and a hearty beef broth, and Damien was feeling content.

"Grandfather," he asked as the meal concluded. "Perhaps we may start talking about..."

"We must wait for your mother to return, first," said Ra's. "I sent her on an errand."

"Oh...of course..."

"She'll be back within the hour," assured Ra's. "While we wait...perhaps you'd like to spar? It's been a long time. I'd like to see how your skills have improved...or not."

Damien couldn't refuse such a challenge.

"Blades?" He asked, standing.

"Staffs," said Ra's. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"As you like," said Damien, grinning. He'd watched Drake fight for years now. Even though a staff wasn't Damien's usual weapon, he trained with everything in the Bat Cave and committed every trick the older boy did to memory.

"In addition," said Ra's conversationally as they entered one of the many training rooms. They chose their staffs. "With a blunt weapon, we do not need to hold back." And he brought his heavy staff down in a sweeping arc towards Damien's neck.

Damien dropped to one knee, bringing up his own staff just in time. They collided with a loud crack. Damien, dropped the rest of the way to the ground and rolled out of the way, coming up with a cry to swing at Ra's head. But mid-swing, he let go of the staff with one hand so that the end hit Ra's knees, below his self-confident block near his stomach.

Ra's let out an "oof."

Damien stepped back and fell into an easy stance, staff held loose.

"You've improved," observed Ra's.

"I'm older now," said Damien.

And they both charged.

Ra's had years and years of experience.

But Damien was faster. Damien was a prodigy.

The staffs groaned and protested the strength of the blows. A crowd gathered by the doors. Sweat dripped to the floor, almost hissing from how hot it was as it fell.

Then, it was over.

Damien swept his staff under Ra's legs and he fell onto his back. The end of Damien's staff quivered between Ra's eyes.

"Check mate," panted Damien.

The room held its breath.

"Impressive," breathed Ra's. "Most impressive."

Damien stepped back and graciously offered Ra's a hand, his face flushed and chest heaving from the exertion.

"You are ready," Ra's said, accepting the hand.

"Ready?" Asked Damien.

"To take over the League of Shadows," said Ra's. "Damien, it is time for you to accept your destiny. You were born for this." Ra's swept his hand across the room, indicating the silent crowd of assassins and the mountains outside. "You were born to carry on my legacy. You shall become the next Ra's al Ghul."

"Grandfather," said Damien slowly. "You still have many years left to lead."

"My days measure in weeks, not years," said Ra's. "Every time I use the Lazarus Pit, it takes a little more from me. I will not survive the next plunge unless..." Ra's eyes bored into Damien's and every single alarm bell began to ring in Damien's head. "...unless there is another body waiting for me."

"Another body?" Damien asked. He clutched the staff tighter.

"Yes, Damien. You," said Ra's simply, softly. As if this were a reward and not...and not...

"You want to possess me?!" Damien asked. He felt as if the world had just been flipped upside-down.

"Nothing so crude," Ra's assured him. "You would be gone. Only your body would remain."

"So I'd be dead?!" Damien was yelling. He didn't remember deciding to yell.

"You aren't understanding me," Ra's began.

"I understand well enough!"

Damien turned and ran. No one tried to stop him. They're probably as shocked as I am, Damien thought wildly. He was wrong. They were simply waiting.

He sprinted to his old room. No. No it was a room in which he had once slept, nothing about it was his.

He slammed shut the door and turned to grab his clothes and get the fuck out.

But his clothes, and his phone, were gone.

Damien froze, scanning the room. Had he put it in the chest? He could have sworn...Damien's eyes landed on the katana set on the wall. He frowned. For some reason it made him uneasy. Probably the shock of the entire situation. He decided to bring along his favorite katana in case his grandfather told people to attack him...

For the second time, Damien's entire world was flipped.

His favorite katana. The one he had under his bed at Wayne Manor.

They took my stuff out of my room.

In one second, Damien imagined the scene. Imagined Drake going into his bedroom and finding nothing. Imagined Drake calling over Alfred, confused and annoyed. Imagined Todd dropping by and complaining about how 'that demon brat' was always going to run out on them.

Imagined his family thinking he'd abandoned them.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Damien?" Asked Ra's. The door knob began to turn.  
Damien lunged forward and pulled a dagger off the wall and Ra's found its point quivering in front of his nose when he finished opening the door.

"Where's my phone?!" Demanded Damien.

"You won't need it anymore," said Ra's.

"Once mother hears about this...!"

"She already knows," said Ra's soothingly. "In fact, most of this was her idea."

Damien swallowed hard, but the hand holding the dagger didn't waver. "Where is my phone?" Damien growled.

"You should be honored," said Ra's with a frown. "When you lived here-"

"When I lived here I was brainwashed into thinking that your way was the only way to live!" Damien yelled. "But I know better now...I'm not letting you do this. I refuse!"

"That does make it harder," Ra's admitted. "But not impossible."

There was the swish of a curtain and Damien turned to intercept whatever was being thrown at him.

But he was expecting a dagger or an arrow, and the tranquilizing dart sank into his neck. He pulled it out almost immediately, but it was a potent little beast.

"We didn't want to do this, Damien," Talia told her son regretfully, lowering the small crossbow.

"When father..." Damien began weakly.

"By the time dear Bruce hears about this..." her voice sounded so far away. "It will be over."

Damien collapsed on the floor as everything went dark.


	5. On Thought and Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING - This is the chapter that deals with themes of non-consent. Nothing is described explicitly. However, if you want to skip it, I will summarize this chapter in the start of the next.
> 
> A simple rescue rarely goes as planned.

"I never thought I'd be back here," muttered Jason.

Tim glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and decided to pretend he hadn't heard. Jason had been on edge since they'd finished crossing the Atlantic Ocean (the high-speed jet plane had made the entire trip manageable in a few hours.) Tim was wondering if it had been the best idea to insist that Jason come with him. But then he tried to remember when he'd insisted and decided that this had been Jason's choice and worrying about it was a waste of energy. And Tim knew he couldn't take on Ra's al Ghul on his own. Unlike everyone else in the family, Tim had a healthy respect for his own limits.

"I've identified Ra's hide-out," said Tim, glancing at the instruments. "We're lucky Bruce has been here so many times."

"Sure. Lucky."

"I'm putting us down at the bottom of the mountain so we can avoid their perimeter sensors," said Tim.

"Whatever."

"But we should be on the look-out for look-outs…"

"Just stop talking."

"Okay…okay…"

Tim started the landing sequence.

"Hey, Red?"

Tim looked cautiously at Jason. "Yeah?"

"I refuse to go into the room with the Lazarus Pit."

Tim nodded. "Understood."

"Understood."

Jason almost snorted but restrained himself. He'd had enough of Tim's little side-glances. Tim didn't understand anything.

But, then again, neither did Jason. Not when it came to this overwhelming desire to be as far away from here as possible. The same subconscious feeling that had driven him back to the states and, eventually, back to Gotham.

 

Both young men had ditched their normal outfits for "stealth" outfits of all black, and they half-crawled up the slope as the sun began to set. Jason had two guns. Tim had his staff. And they both had their full arsenal of tricks on their belts. They'd both begun their careers as Robin before their teenage years. Tim had worked with the Justice League and Jason as a mercenary (only Bruce knew the details of those little escapades).

They were still jumped by a shit-ton of ninjas as soon as they stepped foot into Ra's secret compound. The assassins were just that good.

"Where the hell did they come from?!" yelled Jason as he fired again and again. Tim was making him use tranquilizing bullets instead of the real thing. Which was fine but hell was Jason annoyed about being jumped.

"If I knew that we wouldn't be in this mess!" Tim yelled back. He was using his carbon-fiber staff to block blows from katanas, selectivity activating its electrical capacities to stun ninjas when they got in range.

"This…is…a…waste…of time!" said Jason, punctuating each word with another gunshot.

"I agree!" Tim grunted as he narrowly avoided being decapitated. "When I say duck, do it."

"Why?"

"DUCK!"

Jason dropped to the ground as Tim threw something in the air before flinging himself down. A few intelligent ninjas also threw themselves down. The rest found themselves hit by a near-concussive force burst of air and fell to the ground in a daze.

One of the slightly smarter ninjas threw a dagger at Tim's head but Jason intercepted the weapon with a bullet and Tim threw something at his face that erupted into a puff of smoke that had the would-be assassin snoring peacefully.

Jason cautiously got up and shot a few of the ninjas that were still twitching.

"Jason," complained Tim.

"What?" asked Jason. He shot another one. "Double tap means they won't follow you. They aren't real bullets anyway."

Tim looked at him steadily and said, "You're making a lot of noise."

Jason gave him the bird.

Tim shrugged and started walking deeper into the compound. Jason flipped him off again before following.

"No alarms," said Tim in a whisper.

"I don't think people usually get past the front door," Jason pointed out. He felt more than heard the noise of the safety of a gun being unlatched and spun around, raising his own gun to fire and successfully ducking under the first arrow. (Oops, crossbow, a part of Jason's mind observed.)

Tim had instinctively flinched when he saw Jason move and, while the arrow meant for him grazed his cheek, it didn't strike true.

Talia dodged Jason's bullets and raised her crossbow to fire again. Only to have the hallway filled with smoke as Tim dropped another of his trick explosives. Tim grabbed Jason's arm and yanked him in the direction of one of the hallways and they both ran away as silently as they could as Talia emerged, spluttering, from the smog.

"Where are we going?" Jason hissed.

"There's a short-range GPS tracker in Damien's suit," replied Tim. He held up his wrist to indicate his watch. "I picked it up once we got in the building."

Jason frowned at the read-out (which was hard cause Tim kept moving his arms since they were still running). "That's taking us to the center of the compound."

"Yeah…why is that important?"

"That's the Pit room."

That was enough for Tim to slow his pace. "Ugh...keep watch at the end of the hallway?"

Jason nodded curtly, and they resumed their search.

They ran into no other guards and they seemed to have lost Talia.

All of which was suspicious.

 

"We're walking into an ambush," Jason muttered.

"Yeah," said Tim grimly. "I thought of that, too."

They rounded the last corner and there was the ambush.

Jason threw himself to the ground, firing as he went, while Tim ducked back behind the corner to pull the baterangs from his belt.

The door that the ninjas were guarding was opened and Ra's al Ghul emerged. He looked very old and very annoyed. With him came a strange smell.

Some teacher had once told Jason that smell was the most powerful inducer of memory. Jason had scoffed.

But now...now as he smelled the scent of chemicals mixed with boiling flesh, the scent of something old, older than time, the scent of something rotting in the dark, of something unnatural...now as he smelled the Lazarus Pit, Jason finally understood.

Because the smell poisoned the very air he was breathing and the air in his lungs turned icy cold.  
He was breathing for the first time after being dead, breathing and finding nothing but that liquid that burned like ice. Fighting his way to the surface and finding himself among enemies. Not knowing who or what or when he was, just knowing he needed to run...

Jason went limp on the ground. Faintly, another lifetime away, Tim was yelling his name. Talia al Ghul was running up behind Tim, her sword outstretched but Tim caught it on his staff just in time.

One of the ninjas came forward and kicked Jason in the head and everything went black.

He didn't even try to defend himself.

 

Jason's eyes flew open and he leapt to his feet. He was all but naked – stripped down to his underwear. He was in a small cell, a square that was about 4 feet by 4 feet. Stone on three sides, the roof, and the floor. The only way in and out was the iron bars that also served as part of the door. He was locked in.

"I have to admit," said a smooth, female voice. "That was somewhat of a disappointment."

Jason glared at Talia through the bars and said nothing.

"What's the matter?" She smirked. "Cat got your tongue? Or are you having a panic attack again?"

Jason's glare was murderous. "Let me go," he said softly, threateningly. "And I might not kill you."

Talia snorted, "I doubt you would pose much of a threat." She swept out of the room. She took the torch that was the only source of light with her and a heavy metal door slammed shut somewhere in the damp room.

 

"What did she mean by 'another panic attack'?" someone asked. The voice was that of a teenage boy being held in the cell next to Jason's.

"Damien?" Asked Jason.

"Hello, Todd."

"Why are you down here?"

"Obviously my mother's side of the family have no taste when it comes to family reunions."

Jason would have smirked if the prospects weren't so bleak. "The kid was right," Jason muttered. "You were in trouble."

"I didn't know it at the time," admitted Damien. He sounded the most miserable Jason had ever heard him. "But I was...am...now we're both in trouble. What did she mean by 'panic attack'?"

"I caught a whiff of the Lazarus Pit and lost it a bit," said Jason shortly. "It was pathetic. I got caught. End of story. Now drop it."

Damien was quiet, processing the information. Jason used the break to cautiously walk up to the door (his eyes still hadn't adjusted to the dark) and he shook the bars of the cell. Nothing. He tried putting all his weight on them, using his shoulder. Still nothing.

Jason wished he was at least wearing some clothes.

"They want to use it on me," said Damien.

"Huh?" Said Jason. He wondered if kicking the door would help.

"They want to use the Lazarus Pit on me."

Jason blinked. "You're alive," said Jason. It was a stupid thing to say but as far as he knew...

"I wasn't going to be."

Jason blinked several more times. "They were...Jesus H. Christ, they were going to kill you just to bring you back? What kind of fucked up ritual is that?!"

"No!" Damien sounded impatient and – Jason couldn't believe his ears – scared. "No! They're going to kill me and give my body to grandfather!"

Jason sat down.

"Fuck," he finally managed.

"Please tell me you can get us out of here," said Damien. He sounded ashamed.

"They took everything I had," said Jason. "I'm literally in boxers...fuck...I can't...fuck."

Silence except for their breathing.

"WHY THE HELL DID YOU GO WITH THEM?!" Jason exploded.

"I THOUGHT I COULD CHANGE THEM!" Damien yelled back.

"WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?!"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Damien took a deep shuddering breath and repeated in a whisper, "I don't know."

Jason reeled in his temper and took a deep breath. Think. What they want to do to this kid is worse than death. Think.

"I can only hear the two of us in here," he said. "Tim must be looking for us."

"Unless they killed him," said Damien flatly.

"They would have come to gloat," said Jason.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

Damien didn't respond for several seconds. Then, "Okay."

And that was it for a long time.

 

The door to the dungeon opened and light flooded the room. Two figures stood silhouetted in the doorway: Ra's and his daughter. Jason got to his feet slowly, lifting his chin defiantly despite the lack of clothing. He wondered if Damien was doing the same.

Ra's al Ghul came forward and gave Jason a piercing look. "You have made everything much more difficult," he said finally.

Jason smirked. "That's my specialty."

"Did you know," Ra's continued as if he hadn't heard Jason. "That I promised to never touch his family after what happened to you?"

Jason tried to hide his surprise. It didn't work.

"No, I thought not," said Ra's.

"And still you kidnapped Damien," said Jason quickly. He didn't want to think about the rest of the implications of Ra's statement.

"Damien is part of my family and, therefore, exempt."

"That's not how that works!" Burst out Damien hotly. Jason heard Damien get closer to the door of his cell. "You're breaking your promise, grandfather. Didn't you always say that the greatest shame..."

"Don't flatter yourself, Damien," said Ra's. "Bruce had no part in your conception. He has no claim over you."

"That's not how biology works," Jason said snidely.

"And I distinctly recall being told that I wasn't a test-tube baby," added Damien. "Unless you and mother lied about that, too."

"Don't be ridiculous, Damien," said Talia. "I had you the natural way. It was imperative for you to have a normal infancy-"

Jason snorted. "Normal?"

She ignored him.

"-but it wasn't necessary for your father to consent to your birth."

Jason's mouth went dry.

"What...what do you mean...?" Damien asked.

"I wanted Bruce Wayne to be the father of my son," said Talia.

"I wanted his DNA to someday be my own," added Ra's.

"So I got him alone, slipped a little something into his drink, and..." Talia shrugged. "I didn't need him to recall the event."

Damien backed away from the door, his heart beating painfully fast, his mouth dry. No...no...

"Bruce, never wanted you to be born," said Ra's evenly. "Why would you want to return to him?"

"YOU FUCKING SAVAGES!" Todd roared.

"GET OUT!" Damien yelled. He could feel the hot tears welling up behind his eyes. I only ever existed for them to use me. "GET OUT!"

"You have a couple of hours left until we need you," said Ra's. "We can leave you here until then."

"I WILL NOT LET YOU HAVE HIM!" Todd yelled. There was thud, as if he had kicked his door.

Talia smirked. And neither deemed it important enough to respond as they swept back out of the room. The door closed with an unusually large snap and left them in darkness once more.  
Damien dropped to his knees and curled into a ball. He felt sick and angry and cold and miserable.

"AND WHAT DID YOU DO WITH TIM?" Todd added.

 

"They tried to stab me," said a familiar voice wearily. "And then they chased me all over this god-forsaken compound. But then I set some booby traps so we at least have time to get out. Took me forever to find you."

"Understatement," Todd said. But Damien could hear the relief in his voice.

There was a click and a small flashlight illuminated Damien's cell. He jumped to his feet and wiped away the tears, silently begging Drake not to say anything. Drake just looked at him for a moment and then stuck the flashlight between his teeth so that he could get some lockpicks from his belt.

"I can hold the light, Drake. You look like an idiot." Damien said, trying to put his thoughts in order. His brothers were here to save him, wasn't that enough proof that he meant something to someone?

Drake shrugged and handed it to him.

"By the way, Jason, I have your clothes," Drake added as he worked.

"Thank god," said Todd. "I'm freezing."

There was the faint sound of an explosion and someone yelled several floors above. "That's booby trap number one," said Tim. "I wanted to draw them away from wherever I was going to be."

"How did you find us?" Asked Todd. "Since your hidden GPS led us to the Pit of Doom and not Damien."

"I knew there was a GPS in that uniform," muttered Damien.

"It's super short range," said Drake. "And I followed al Ghul."

"How many explosions did you set-up?" asked Damien, he was thinking. Thinking hard and fast. I don't want them to ever come looking for me again. I don't want them near me or anyone else I care about. I want to hurt them like they hurt me.

The lock opened with a loud click and Drake said, "Three. The first two are the flash-bombs and that knock-out gas. The last one is just smoke." He moved on to Todd's cell. "They're about seven minutes apart."

"It'll be close but we can do it," muttered Damien. A half-formed plan had been established. It would be enough.

"Do what?" asked Drake warily. Todd's eyes flicked from Drake's to Damien's in the half-light.

"Do you have smoke bombs left?" Damien asked, ignoring Drake's question for now.

"Yes," said Drake. "And one of the concussive bombs and a good number of baterangs." He looked at Todd. "What did you bring?"

"Just flash bombs," said Todd. "Damien, what are you thinking?"

"The pH level in the Lazarus Pit is very delicate," said Damien. "If we throw all that stuff in there and leave it, it will do a good amount of damage."

"You want us to throw smoke and flash bombs into a boiling pit?" asked Drake.

Todd didn't say anything.

"Yes," said Damien. He continued quickly before Drake could protest. "If we don't, they'll just come get me again. They've very clearly said they don't care about whether or not I consent."

Drake got Todd's cell open and turned to look at Damien with a frown. Struck by sudden inspiration, Damien quickly added, "And we need to get my cell-phone anyway – can you imagine the damage it would cause if they managed to hack it and then reverse engineer all the Wayne Tech in it? They may be able to hack the Bat Cave systems-"

"All right," said Drake, interrupting. "But we don't have much time." He glanced at Todd, "Your stuff is in the air vent. Let's go."


	6. The Cavern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Tim and Jason try to sneak into the lair of the League of Shadows. The proximity to the Lazarus Pit prompts Jason to have a panic attack and he is separated from Tim. When he awakes, he and Damien find themselves jailed together. Talia and Ra's come in and mock both boys and declare that they are going to go through with the ceremony to transfer Ra's consciousness into Damien's body whether they like it or not. Luckily, Tim isn't hiding too far away and is able to sneak in and rescue them. Damien is determined to destroy the Lazarus pit once and for all and, unable to dissuade him, the older two boys agree.
> 
> This chapter: When the Bat-brand science is pitted against the magic of the League of Shadows, who will win?

Tim was tired. The black outfit and the dim lighting hid the blood that was soaking his shirt from the shallow but long cuts across his stomach – souvenirs from fighting Talia al Ghul. More worrying was the stab wound across his left forearm that had gone deep enough to expose muscle. That was the real reason that Tim had delayed for so long before finding his brothers: he'd needed to find a safe place to stab himself with a syringe full of painkillers and bind the arm as best he could. He could feel the hot blood starting to trickle down his arm and was honestly worried that he would be fighting one-handed if they came upon another group of assassins.

At least it's your non-dominant arm, Tim tried to reassure himself. And if you don't keep it together…

Tim glanced back down the air vent to take a look at the other two. Damien was wearing an expression that scared him. Jason had no expression at all. That also scared Tim.

Somewhere in the compound, there was another dull explosion and some shouting.

"That's two," Tim whispered.

"Where is the third group set?" Damien asked.

"I think it's a medical bay…?" Tim said, "It's far from both the door and the pit room."

"Good."

They continued their journey in silence. Tim had left himself blinking markers as he explored the stupid place, and was able to find his way back pretty easily. Just as the third booby trap was set to go off, the walls began to narrow and slope steeply upwards.

"We have to get out and use the door," Tim whispered. "Look, Jason, maybe-"

But Tim was cut off as the next inch forward was accompanied by a spasm of pain down his left arm as it simply gave out. Tim pitched forward, letting out an involuntary hiss and barely saving himself from banging his head on the bottom of the air vent with his other hand.

"You're injured," said Damien. He sounded somewhat surprised.

"I'm…fine…" Tim insisted, breathing heavily. The painkillers had worn off much faster than he had been expecting.

"Bullshit," said Jason flatly. "You were about to suggest I stay behind and guard the exit which is also bullshit. I'm coming. You fight with a staff. How useful do you think you're going to be with an injured shoulder?"

Tim gave Jason a glare. Jason shrugged. "You've been favoring your right side," he said. "I'm not blind."

Damien looked a bit ashamed. Tim figured Damien hadn't noticed.

"Fine," said Tim. "The vent cover is just ahead." He pulled the rest of the smoke bombs from his belt and passed them to Damien. "Be fast," Tim suggested. Damien nodded, looking determined.

The dropped from the ceiling silently and got on either side of the door. Jason unclicked he safety on the one gun Tim had recovered for him, Tim adjusted his one-handed grip on his staff. At a nod, Damien kicked open the door and they rushed through.

About a quarter of the league and Ra's al Ghul were in that room. None of them looked surprised.

Tim felt like an idiot. We did exactly what they thought we would do.

Damien had already charged, letting out a battle cry. Tim had no choice but to follow.

Tim wielded his staff like a sword, looking for a way that he could electrocute several people at once. Ducking underneath blades that came rushing at his face and using most of his energy to keep someone from sneaking up on him.

Jason was quickly reduced to fighting hand-to-hand. His face was pale but his focus didn't waver as he punched his way out of a knot of ninjas.

Damien's sole focus was getting to the Lazarus Pit. And he wove around the room, inflicting damage when he could but always, always moving forward.

Ra's watched Damien's progress with a smile.

"DAMI!" Tim yelled, trying desperately to get himself out of a corner he was slowly being driven into. "Dami, stop! It's a trick!"

But either Tim's voice was now too weak to be heard over the sound of the battle, or Damien was too focused to notice.

Tim looked up and, just as two ninjas converged on his position, put all of his strength into jumping. He hit one with his staff and used the other's face as a springboard. Tim managed to wrap the fingers of his right hand on one of the many pipes crisscrossing the ceiling and pulled himself up. He was panting from the pain from his earlier injury, but forced it out of his mind.

Tim grabbed the last concussive bomb from his belt and looked up. The pipes and beams all rose up to a single point high in the rock ceiling. We're in the mountain, Tim realized. Huh. How poetic.

Hoping his calculations were correct, Tim activated the bomb and threw it at the convergence point with all his might.

The resulting explosion shook the entire cavern and toppled Tim from his precarious perch.

Damien leaped for the platform directly above the Lazarus Pit when two things happened at once: Tim threw an explosive at the ceiling and the platform swung an inch too far to the left, and something wrapped around his ankle. The platform collided with Damien's stomach and he scrambled to hold on with his hands full of the special bombs. But the whip around his ankle tightened as Ra's wielded it expertly and tugged Damien down.

Down into the Lazarus Pit.

Damien splashed into the acrid liquid and came up spluttering. He dropped the bombs without setting them off, hoping it would be enough and that the pit would dissolve the casing on its own. But before he had a chance to look around and see where his traitorous grandfather had gone, before he had even managed to get that stuff out of his eyes, before he had even drawn a proper breath –

Ra's was there. But he wasn't the same. His eyes were dark pits in a lined face, his lips were pulled back in a terrible, half-mad grimace and his skin was white and paper thin.

One of Ra's gnarled hands shot forward and grasped Damien's chest right above his heart.

The breath Damien was trying to take froze in his lungs. Ice filled his veins. He was acutely aware of the pounding of his own heart. Then he was aware of nothing at all.

Apparently, Jason thought as he watched the ninjas he'd been fighting run away as soon as the roof shook, No one is too thrilled to die for al Ghul today.

Jason turned, scanning the cavern for his younger brothers.

What he saw was so awful that for a moment he thought he was having another panic attack and hallucinating.

The Lazarus Pit was bubbling and steaming, the liquid had pulled away from the sides and gathered in the center, where Ra's was doing something to Damien. Damien's skin was deathly pale and Ra's had a crazy smile on his face that Jason knew all too well…

Jason did the only thing he could do. He jumped in.

He knew instantly that it was a bad idea. The liquid clung to his legs and tried to hamper his process. It began to burn through his clothing and the smoke stung his eyes. Jason ignored it, slogging through it to get to Damien.

With a war-cry, he hit Ra's across the head from behind and then flung him aside. He was surprisingly light for a man who had just hours before been able to fight with a katana almost as well as his grandson. Jason didn't spare it a second thought.

He lunged forward to catch Damien before his head sank under the liquid.

Damien didn't respond, just lay limp in Jason's arms as the older man turned to get them out of there.

The distance seemed to have doubled, tripled even. Each step forward took all of Jason's strength as the Lazarus Pit steamed and protested and clung to his legs. He was shaking from the effort even before he had gone halfway.

"Jay!" Tim ran to the end of the Pit and made as if to jump in to help.

"NO!" Jason yelled. "No! You're injured there's no telling what it will do to you!"

Tim looked confused and worried but stayed put, looking around nervously as the ceiling began to crack and the entire cavern groaned. "Come on!" Tim yelled.

Jason didn't waste energy responding, just concentrated on putting one foot ahead of the other.

Almost there, almost there…the liquid had burned through his shoes and pants, was starting to burn his skin.

Tim reached out his hand, managing to grasp Jason's arm.

Jason's legs were pulled out from under him. A vicious undertow had suddenly developed, sweeping his shaking legs away.

Jason let out a desperate shout and managed to throw Damien at Tim. The last thing he saw before he went under was Tim falling onto his back, hugging Damien to his chest.

Then his world was bubbling liquid that was trying to drag him back, back into the darkness. Jason held his breath and struggled to find his footing. It wasn't even deep! But his energy was draining away and he wondered why he was even fighting…wouldn't it be so nice to just let the darkness take him…?

But then someone was grabbing him by the back of his shirt and pulling him to the surface. Jason drew in a gasping breath and reached for the edge of the Pit with a shaking hand. Tim grabbed onto his hand and pulled with all his might, his eyes screwed up against the pain in his shoulder.

With Tim's help, Jason made it out, shaking and weak and disorientated. Tim let go of Jason, grabbed his staff from the ground, and threw it like a javelin. It sparked to life when it hit the Pit, electricity stretching across the surface like a spider-web.

The cavern moaned and Jason thought he heard the Pit scream.

"RUN!" Tim yelled, scrambling to his feet and, somehow, managing to lift Damien onto his back in a fireman's hold. "Jay, get up and run!"

Jason gritted his teeth and did as Tim asked, racing after him as the Lazarus Pit exploded behind them.


	7. When We Find Home

The race down the mountain, towards the plane, ranked as one of the top ten most terrifying moments of Tim's life.

He wasn't sure if he could carry Damien all the way there, he wasn't sure if Jason would make it all the way there, they had no weapons and none of them were in any shape to fight hand-to-hand. Their chances of survival were slim to none.

They fell more than ran down the mountain, and Tim all but collapsed at the bottom. I'm too weak to carry Damien, he thought in a daze. But Jason took Damien from his arms without a word and they managed to make it the rest of the way to the plane.

Jason put Damien in the back while Tim programmed a course home and they took off as quickly as they could.

Then the plane was silent except for pained and ragged breathing.

Tim leaned back against the pilot's seat with an involuntary groan. Jason glanced at him. "I can see the blood," said Jason grimly. "Should you be flying?"

"Auto-pilot," said Tim wearily. He gave Jason a piercing glance. "How are you?"

A grim chuckle made its way past Jason's lips. "You're bleeding and you ask me if I'm okay?"

"You seemed pretty desperate for me not to jump in after you," prodded Tim.

"Yeah, well," Jason gave his replacement a twisted smile. "I didn't want you to end up like me."

"You know," said Tim after a pause. "That wouldn't be all bad."

 

Damien woke up while they were over the Atlantic Ocean. His body shuddered as he opened his eyes. Exhausted and cold, he looked up and watched his two brothers silently. Jason was playing with a baterang, flipping it over and over in his hand. Damien could only see Tim's reflection as he lay in the other seat with his eyes closed. Both of them were pale – but Damien figured he didn't look much better.

"Thank you," said Damien softly.

Tim's eyes snapped open and Jason looked around with surprise. "Say again?"

"Thank you for coming to get me," said Damien.

Tim turned and gave him a kind smile as Jason said, "It's part of the job description."

Tim gave him a look.

"I meant of being related," added Jason. "Sort of, anyway." He gave Damien a closer look. "How are you feeling, Dami?"

"I'm cold," Damien admitted. "Is the heat on in this thing?"

Tim glanced at the instruments. "Yeah. But there are hypothermia blankets under your seat if you think that'll help."

Damien tried not to appear too eager as he reached under his seat for the synthetic polymers.

"Mind handing me one?" Jason asked.

Damien silently handed the second blanket forward and wrapped himself in a cocoon. The plane began to beep and Tim glanced down. He gave a little laugh and said, "If you look below us, you may catch a glimpse of Superman."

"So we're almost home?" asked Damien quietly.

"Almost," promised Tim.

Damien nodded, watching the clouds zip by. You were wrong, grandfather. Damien thought. I got to choose my home.

 

Barbara had wanted to yell at them. Damien could see it in her eyes. But it was that type of yelling that meant she had spent no time sleeping and the entire time worrying about them. But she had swallowed her words and called for Alfred.

Tim half-collapsed trying to get out of the plane, face pale from the slow but steady blood loss over the past several hours, and Jason paused to help him. Damien muttered something about needing to shower, had pushed his way to the secret elevator and fled up the stairs.

He felt blue, grey, and green eyes follow him.

He got to his bare room and stopped. His eyes roved across walls that had been stripped of their wallpaper, across a bed that was missing sheets. Then he collapsed.

"Jay," Tim grabbed Jason's wrist as Jason made to leave after helping him get to the infirmary.

Jason shook his head; "Tim, please, I need to sleep-"

"Think about what al Ghul told him," insisted Tim weakly. "And the Pit…his room is empty."

Jason met Tim's eyes, and left silently.

"Tim," said Barbara softly. "What happened?"

"Can I explain when Bruce and Dick get back?" asked Tim, his eyes were already drifting shut.

Barbara swallowed hard. "Of course."

She exchanged worried glances with Alfred.

 

"Damien?"

Damien didn't reply, just stayed on his knees, shivering.

Jason knelt beside him and Damien felt a heavy coat get draped over him. He looked up to meet Jason's tired and pain-filled eyes. "I can't imagine what it felt like being brought back to life that way," Damien whispered.

Jason shrugged and said, "Come on, Dick's rooms is the nicest."

Damien let Jason help him to his feet. "I know you don't like people touching you," Jason said as they walked. "But it's like hypothermia, body heat is the only thing that helps."

"How did you know that?" asked Damien.

"The people who found me thought I did have hypothermia," said Jason matter-of-factly.

Damien didn't press.

When Alfred came looking for them, they were both asleep on top of Dick's bed, Damien pressed against Jason's chest.


	8. End Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce finally gets home and learns about the bravery, and comradery, of his sons.

Neither Jason nor Tim nor Damien had ever seen Bruce that angry.

They'd finished explaining. In stops and starts where Bruce had been stone-still in his seat but Dick had been pacing around and around the room. Barbara would periodically curse and poor Alfred looked like he was going to have a heart attack.

It was silent for several, long minutes after they were finished. Tim almost felt bad for Bruce and Dick – they'd just returned from a grueling mission on an alien planet. Alfred and Barbara had been kept in anxious suspense for a couple of days when Tim insisted that they really shouldn't tell the story twice.

Damien hadn't left anything out. Including what he'd learned about the circumstances of his birth.

Jason barely said three words, leaving Tim to fill in a good amount of information on their adventures through the den of the League of Shadows.

And now Bruce was sitting in that seat, looking murderous.

"You're sure Ra's is dead?" he finally asked. His voice was a low, dangerous growl.

"Well," said Tim slowly. "He's not alive. When I threw my staff in the Pit the entire thing exploded."

"And Talia?"

"I don't know," admitted Tim.

At Bruce's glance, Jason shrugged and muttered, "I was preoccupied."

"I feel sick," declared Dick. "I can't…listen, Dami…" He went over to where Damien was sitting on the couch looking at his shoes, and knelt so he was eye-level with the boy who had been his side-kick. "Dami, we're your family. Nothing you just told us changes that."

Damien met Dick's eyes, then silently slid his gaze to Bruce.

Bruce who still hadn't moved.

"Father?" Damien asked tentatively.

Bruce looked up and met his son's eyes. "I would die for you, Damien," he said simply.

Damien hurled himself across the room and into Bruce's arms. The angry look left Bruce's face as he held his youngest boy close. Tears came to his eyes; Damien's skin still felt cold.

He looked up at Tim and Jason over Damien's head and mouthed, 'Thank you.'

They both nodded. Jason's throat felt tight with tears.

Dick put his arm around Tim's shoulders. Barbara took one of Alfred's old hands in hers. Jason stepped forward to ruffle Damien's black hair with his hand, a half-smile on his face.

 

And Talia stood with her hand on the gun outside the window for several long minutes. I could do it, she thought. She had meant to kill one of Bruce's other sons, in revenge for him stealing hers. But there was something close enough to love in her heart that she eventually dropped the gun she had stolen from Jason on the ground and disappeared into the night. They never heard from her again.


End file.
